Hopes and Dreams
by Titch360
Summary: Damian has yet another bad dream, sending him to Dick for comfort. Meanwhile, Dick gets to practice his Dr. Phil.


Hopes and Dreams

Dick Grayson awoke with a start. He was sure he heard a noise in his room. It took his eyes longer than he thought to adjust to the darkness surrounding him, but as they did, he swept the room from the warmth of his bed. He was sure the noise came from around the door, but it was still closed, as it had been when he finally was able to go to bed.

Dick looked at the digital clock on his nightstand, 4:45am. _Great, my grand total of sleep for the night is forty-five minutes. Maybe I will be able to fall back to sleep. It must have been in a dream, that noise._

There were a lot of things in life that Dick Grayson could ignore. He could ignore the nagging feeling that the noise had not come from his dream. He could ignore the pain in his shoulder as he laid back down and rolled onto his side. It had been a brutal patrol, lasting well longer than he wanted to keep Damian out on a school night. Both had several new bumps and bruises, and had barely made it back to the cave while awake. There had been no discussion of the night's activities, just a quick change and a long trudge up to bed. Dick had set his alarm to get Damian up for school, but was thinking that Damian may have to come down with a cold, at least as far as the school would be concerned.

Dick could ignore the soreness of his body as he rolled over onto his other side, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. He could ignore the looks Alfred was sure to give him when he awoke for the day. However, there was one thing that the weary man could not ignore.

Dick Grayson had to pee.

Getting himself out of his warm bed with a huff, Dick didn't bother putting on a shirt or slippers as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the light, instantly regretting that decision. A pain shot through his optic nerve to settle in his brain. _Great, something else that hurts._ He conducted his business in the restroom with his eyes tightly shut against the bright light, making a mental note to pick up a night light for the bathroom sometime soon. Finished, he extinguished the light and felt his way down the hall while still blinded from the bright flash.

With his hand trailing along the wall for guidance, and his bare feet urging him to greater speed along the cold, hardwood floor, Dick made his way back to his room. He was sure that he was just outside of his room when his lower leg connected with something solid, yet squishy. He fell to the ground with a surprised shout, while the object tipped over as well. Both man and object gave a surprised string of curses that, if translated, would have been almost exactly the same. Dick's curses came in Romani, while the other curses came in Arabic. _Ah, I seem to have tripped over Damian._

Damian had been sitting outside of Dick's door, his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, and his head resting on his knees. Damian was wearing black pajamas, and his black hair would have hidden his head. _Even if I wasn't still blinded, there is almost no way I could have seen him in the hallway._

Turning to lay on his side, facing Damian and rubbing the knee that had connected with the boy, Dick asked, "And to what do I owe this early morning visit?"

Damian, who was rubbing his head, where Dick's knee had solidly struck, grumbled back, "Tt. I…thought I heard a noise, so I came…to check on you." The boy looked away, knowing that Grayson could take one look at his face and tell he was lying.

Dick didn't need to see the young man's face to know that was not true. He smiled, "And…finding nothing out of the ordinary, you decided to sit down in the cold hallway outside my door to, what, stand guard? Just in case you heard the noise again?"

_Why does he have to mock me?_ "I…didn't want to wake you, Grayson. We had a long enough night. You need your sleep."

Dick was sure he heard an unsaid 'again' when Damian said he didn't want to wake him. For the past three nights, Damian had come to him just about this time in the morning and told him about nightmares. The child hadn't had a full, uninterrupted night sleep in almost a week. "You had another nightmare, didn't you, Little D."

The boy nodded, not looking at Dick. _He always seems so much younger, when he lets his guard down_. Dick stood up and held out a hand to Damian who, surprisingly, took it to pull himself up. "Come on, you can tell me all about it, but not here. The floor is too cold. Come on."

Still holding on to Dick's hand, Damian followed his older brother back to the bed. Dick sat down and made room for Damian to sit beside him. He pulled a warm blanket over the both of them and tentatively placed an arm across Damian's shoulders. He stiffened at the gesture, but didn't push Dick away. Dick took that as a good sign and pulled his youngest brother tighter into his side. When Damian looked up into Dick's face, Dick just smiled and said, "It's cold."

"You could try wearing a shirt, you know. That might warm you up some."

Dick shook his little brother jokingly and replied, "Oh, come on. You know you like my body."

Damian blushed bright red and tried to get out of the bed. "Tt. Grayson, you know I don't swing that way. Why do you insist on saying things like that? It makes me uncomfortable. Let go!"

Dick held on to the boy tighter, remembering that Damian still did not understand the concept of humor. _Right, even if he could understand the joke, he probably hasn't had enough rest lately to appreciate the humor._ "Wait, Damian, I'm sorry. It was just a joke. You should know by now that I would never try anything like that with one of my brothers. Come on, I just wanted to lighten the mood a bit. I'm sorry."

The youngest Wayne stopped trying to leave, not because he accepted Dick's apology, but because his nightmare was still bothering him. He continued to sit on the bed, but a bit farther away from Dick. Dick noticed the extra space, and the chilly atmosphere that came with it. _One day, I will learn how to read him._ Dick got up, Damian watching every move, put on a t-shirt, and returned to his spot on the bed.

"Tell me, Damian, what was your dream about?"

Damian began hesitantly, not really wanting to re-experience the nightmare. "I…We…We returned from patrol. You were mad at me for some reason, I don't know why. I was changing in the locker room and you told me you wanted to see me in Father's study as soon as possible. Then, you disappeared and I was in the house looking for you. I opened the door of the study, but you weren't there. I could hear your voice, yelling at me, telling me to get to the study. I was in the study, but then I was upstairs, and I couldn't find you. I began running for the study, but when I got to the door, I found myself back upstairs. I ran again, and found myself back where I started before I even reached the stairs. Then, you were behind me, sticking your head out of a door and yelling at me again. You told me to forget the study and just come to the room you were in. I began running, and every time I passed a door, your door got farther down the hall. I got to one door away from where you were, but the hallway seemed to stretch. The faster I ran, the farther the door got away from me, to the point where it seemed like I was running backwards. And the whole time, your voice is yelling at me, telling me to hurry up. I finally couldn't see the door, it got so far ahead of me, but I kept running. Nothing helped. I couldn't get to you. I was all alone, left with nothing but your fading voice, yelling at me, telling me what a failure I was for not being able to get to you. I felt so…worthless, hopeless. I felt so alone."

The voice trailed off, the last sentence little more than a whisper. Dick stared at Damian and watched as a single tear slowly made its way down the tan cheek. He wiped it away, startling the child, who looked at Dick questioningly, hoping the man could make him feel better.

Dick thought about the dream. _He won't like my thoughts on this one, but I think I know where it's coming from._ He pulled the smaller form in tighter with a little protest and said, "I miss him too."

"What? Who?"

"Bruce. Your father. He left both of us, remember?"

"What are you talking about? I was chasing you, not father."

Dick sighed, thankful he had taken Beginner Psychology in college. "You were chasing me, to your father's study, the one room in the manor that was his, and only his. You couldn't find me, because I'm not Bruce. No one was there, because no one _is_ there. No one can replace your father, Damian."

Damian thought about Dick's explanation. His mother had made sure he had training in psychology, as well. "But, what about the yelling? 'Come find me, I need you, Hurry up.' What could that mean?"

Dick smiled. "Are you finally starting to believe Timmy's theory that he isn't dead?"

"Tt. Drake has no proof, no evidence. I was raised to crush hopes and dreams, not to follow them blindly."

Dick sighed, with a small smile on his face, "Still, if you have to have 'hopes and dreams,' Timmy's is a good one to follow. I can't say I believe him too much, either, but I hope he is right. I miss Bruce just as much as you do."

That was a lie, they both knew it. Dick had spent almost his entire life with Bruce Wayne. Damian may be Bruce's real son, but the boy had known his father for only two months before his death. Grayson had been watching over him for twice as long. In many ways, he felt Dick was more of a father to him than Bruce had been.

Damian had felt the loss of Bruce, but Dick was the one of the pair to truly grieve. For Dick to make the statement that Damian missed Bruce as much as Dick did was either a careful ploy, or he was giving Damian far more credit that he deserved.

Always taught to tell the truth, Damian sighed and said, "We both know that isn't true. He was more your father than mine. It isn't possible for me to miss him as much as you do."

Dick thought he heard an angry tone, but let it go. His ward was starting to open up to him, and he wasn't about to discourage him. "Let's just say we both miss him in our own ways." He thought for another minute before observing, "It can't be easy for you to see me in the Bat-suit, your father's suit, every night on patrol, can it?"

"No," he replied in a whisper. Then, he caught what he said and looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Grayson, I didn't mean to say that. You are doing…adequately, as Batman."

Dick smiled at the honesty of the answer, even though it hurt. "It's okay, Little D. I didn't want to be Batman, you know? Bruce didn't want me to be Batman, either. Gotham needed a Batman, I just happened to be around. I would give up Batman in a second to have Bruce back."

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Dick's arm still around Damian's shoulders. There was really nothing left to say, and the brothers began to doze lightly, still sitting up in Dick's bed. Dick snorted, waking them up again. He looked over at his brother and said, "I'm going to try to get some sleep while it's still dark out. Good night, Little D."

Dick turned off the light and laid down in the bed. He was surprised when Damian lay down beside him, pulling the covers up to his chin and looking sideways at Dick as if he expected the man to tell him to leave. Dick didn't say anything, he just lay on his side and pulled Damian in to him like a giant teddy bear. No words were exchanged between the two, Damian just enjoyed the warmth and the feeling that the nightmares would not be coming back tonight.

Almost asleep, Dick mumbled, "Good night, little brother, love you."

Just as close to sleep, Damian mumbled back, "Good night, Dick. Love you, too."

**A/N: This was actually the first story idea I came up with when I decided to start writing fics, it just got pushed down the writing schedule as more interesting ideas came to me and demanded to be written. I have seen so many similarly themed Dick/Damian stories that I felt I should give one a try myself.**

**One thing you may notice, Dick never calls Damian "Dami" in any of my stories. That is because I really don't like the nickname, and I try not to use it as much as possible. There is only one time I can ever see me using the name in any of my fics, and that is when Dick is whining to Damian, or about Damian. That is the only time that the name doesn't get on my nerves, and will most likely be the only time I ever use it, if it ever comes up in one of my stories.**

**Standard Disclaimer: DC owns the Bat-family. It's their world, I just come to play in it occasionally. **


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